Rebecca

My story starts when my parents, my sisters and I decided to move from the Democratic Republic of Congo in the province of Kisangani, to Uganda. We found ourselves in Nakivale refugee camp due to wars in our country. After having lived in Nakivale for three years, when I was thirteen years old, a thief came to our house to steal our property. The thieves entered the house through the window of our parents’ bedroom. As they went to leave, after they my dad heard them and said “hey you guys!” When they heard him, they decided to make Dad quiet by hitting him on the head with a big piece of tree. The thieves were caught by scouts who were in place to protect the neighborhood, and then taken to the police station to be punished by the law. My dad was taken to the hospital. I sat under the tree in our compound crying. I wondered how I was going to get school fees for myself if my father didn’t recover quickly. While I was crying under the tree, my two younger sisters, Esther and Plamedie, came to me and said “sister be strong, our dad is gonna be fine.” I responded, “my sisters, who is gonna feed us and pay for our school fees if our father doesn’t recover quickly? Yes they supply us food, but it doesn’t mean that we will everyday live with posho and beans. Our bodies need a balanced diet.” After going to school without paying my school fees, the teacher chased me while my dad was still ill in the hospital. I decided to leave school and started to steal from others in order to get a small amount of cash for domestic use. One day on my way to church, I met with a girl dressed in a yellow dress. “Hello,” said the girl. “Hi, how are you doing today?” I replied and continued on my way. She called after me, “Sorry sister, do you remember me,” she said. I told her I did not. She then said, “I am Mary Ngongo Djuma, your best friend from Kisangani, whom you were studying with.” Hoof! I heavenly breathed and directly hugged her tightly, not willing to leave her again. Because I was rushing to church, we decided to leave each other for that time and agreed to meet after church service. When I found her again, we talked a lot and reminded each other about our lives in the DRC. “Do you still remember teacher Marcel?” asked Mary. “Yes, why not,” I responded. “That is the teacher who made me cry in school that I will never forget in my life.” “What happened again?” Mary asked. “I’m not recalling what he did to you.” “Oh my goodness! Really, Mary? I see that your memory is not good!” I laughed. “He refused me to move to go to the toilet” I reminded Mary. “Then Marcel said, ‘Rebecca can you stand,’ and I said no through my building tears as the rest of the class looked at me with laughter in their eyes. “Oh I had completely forgotten about that funny moment,” Mary said. “I am so sorry Rebecca!” She continued, “I also laughed at you that day, but it was only for fun.” I could laugh about it too as I reminisced with Mary. We talked for a while longer about our previous lives in DRC and we agreed to meet again soon. After this day, Mary and I met regularly, and became close friends again. During this time, my dad finally recovered and continued with his work. One day, about six months later, my younger brother, Messiah, the third born, came to me and said “sister, dad said that you got a chance to be paid school fees at a private school in Mbarara town!” I replied, “You fool stray cat! Can you stop dreaming about that?” While I scolded my brother about his silly ideas, I saw my dad and mum coming happily down the path. They exclaimed, “Congratulations our dear! You and your friend Mary Ngongo Djuma have a high chance of being paid school fees in Mbarara town!” I couldn’t believe my brother was right! I never waited for my parents to finish explaining. I rushed to Mary’s home so that we could enjoy that moment happily together. After one week, we packed to leave Nakivale refugee settlement and go to Mbarara town. My mother and my siblings were crying for me to leave them. Since we were all born we had never stayed far away from each other. Mary and I reached Mbarara town, and started schooling after resting for about a week. Mary and I enjoyed school together in Mbarara town. We loved the environment and the town and our studies were going well. After studying there for two years, I had a very serious accident on a motorcycle. Due to going and returning everyday because of a health condition, I was required to be a day scholar. I used to suffer from asthma so the school administration decided to pay for me to take a bodaboda for coming and returning to support my body condition. After my accident, when my parents were informed, my mum was almost dying because of her love for me. Mary was also in shock seeing her friend in that condition. My mother and father came to Mbarara and found me on an oxygen supplier to keep me alive. After three weeks, I recovered and started schooling again. After two weeks back at school, the president of the Republic of Uganda, Yoweri Kaguta Museveni, announced that we were all in lock down due to COVID-19. We all were told to return to our homes. One day when I was sitting home, Mary came and told me, “My dear I have a place where we can try to sell a few things so we can be able to afford something of our